Sweet Surrender
by LissieLove
Summary: Patrick and Robin have a child on the way and Patrick decides to throw himself into the fatherhood process. Even if it kills him.
1. Chapter 1

This story is a bit different than what I've posted before. It's divided into six segments, each taking place over the next six months and each segment is divided into three specific scenes. I'll post one segment a month (on the last day of each month) so it'll almost feel like you're building up to the end the same way that Robin and Patrick are building towards the birth of the baby.

This story picks up in early April and nothing between Robin and Patrick is the same. Everything else on the show has happened. I started plotting this story before Robin announced her due date as October 21 (which if she conceived December 21, makes her pregnant for ten months) so my due date for her is September 21.

This story is also different in that it's meant for two purposes. One, it's a standalone fluff Scrubs story. Two, it's the backstory to Tangle for our dynamic duo. I'm writing it so that it works either way. I hope that you enjoy this :)

**APRIL**

**1**

_Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day!_

William Hamilton Gibson

"I like the yellow."

Patrick nodded. "Yellow's nice."

Robin pursed her lips and tossed the fabric sample aside. "I think the green would be better."

"I agree completely," Patrick said. She eyed him and he held up his hands. "I have no opinion."

"You _have_ to have an opinion," Robin stomped her foot. "This is your baby, too. What color do you want to see at three o'clock in the morning?"

"I don't think any color is going to let me forget I'm about to change a stinky diaper." Patrick pinched his nose. It had taken the better part of two weeks to convince Robin to move into his apartment and sublet hers to Maxie. His apartment had two bedrooms. It was closer to the hospital.

They had argued about it for days before Maxie had sat him down and carefully explained to him—in the strictest confidence, of course—that Robin was extremely insecure about the small dressing area she had for the nursery and talking about decorating that area was a surefire way to get his way.

Maxie had had a twofold reason for helping him – one, she'd actually thought it be good for Robin to have a bit more fulltime support and more importantly, two, she was making enough money to afford Robin's apartment.

It had worked but now Robin thought he wanted to be part of this decorating process and whenever he'd voiced an honest opinion, she'd started to cry.

Apparently, agreeing with her wasn't going to work either. Maybe shooting himself in the foot would clear things up.

"You have that look again," she complained.

"What look?" Patrick answered.

"You hate this and you wish I had never moved in." Robin flopped on the couch and sulked. "Because now you're stuck with a fat girlfriend and you hate me."

_Oh good grief_. Patrick sat on the edge of the coffee table. "Robin, you've gained ten pounds. No one even believes you're almost four months along."

"I _am_ fat," she repeated flatly. She dragged her shirt up and touched the tiny bump that protruded. "And I'm just going to get fatter. You won't even be able to recognize me in a few months."

"Sweetheart, I barely recognize you now," Patrick said with a good-natured smile. He patted her knee. "You're not fat, you're pregnant. And hey, upside is that the bigger you get, the sooner you can feel the baby kick and you want that right?"

"Yes," she said glumly. "But it's taking forever." She huffed. "And I can't even settle on a color for the nursery. The entire thing is a disaster."

"You can't decide between the green and the yellow right?" Patrick said.

"They're not really unisex. I mean, green is totally a guy's color and yellow is so for a girl. What if I screw up this baby by choosing the wrong colors? Don't laugh at me," she warned, seeing the corners of his mouth curve up. "It's not a silly thing to worry about! Stupid things screw up kids all the time."

"I don't doubt that," Patrick said. "We can do this one of three ways. We can close our eyes, pick a color and hope for the best, we can wait to decorate the nursery until after the baby is born—"

"Pfft!"

"Or we can go to our ultrasound next week and ask Kelly to tell us the sex of the baby."

"I want it to be a surprise," Robin said stubbornly. She crossed her arms.

"Okay, then we can do it this way. Kelly will tell me the sex of the baby. I will tell Maxie and _she_ will decorate the nursery."

"I want to decorate the nursery!" Her eyes filmed over with tears. "That nursery should be created by this child's parents, not an aunt who's…" she searched for the right word. "Who's _Maxie_."

"Okay, then Kelly will tell me the sex and _I_ will decorate the nursery," Patrick said, running out of patience. He waited for her to veto the suggestion.

Instead, she stared at him. "You'd do that?" Robin asked softly. "Really?"

He hesitated. "Yes," he replied warily. He was never quite sure what the right answer was anymore.

"That is the sweetest thing!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and smacked a loud kiss on his lips. "You are going to be the best daddy."

Relieved, he joined her on the couch and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He wasn't so bad at this after all.

And then it hit him of course.

He'd just agreed to decorate a nursery. Without Maxie's help.

Crap.

**2**

_The April's in her eyes, it is love's spring,_

_And these the showers to bring it on._

William Shakespeare

"This is going to be a little cold," Kelly warned as she smeared the clear gel across Robin's bump. She grinned up at Patrick. "You excited for this, Daddy?"

"Sure," Patrick said, mostly because it was expected and he figured it would make Robin happy. Or she'd be less likely to cry. His goal for the day was to say or do as little as possible because just about everything that came out of his mouth these days upset her.

She was a minefield and he kept smacking up against them.

He was definitely interested in seeing this ultrasound. The baby wasn't abstract to him, but neither was it really concrete. He still was unsure if he could pull off being a father with any kind of success but he was willing to try very hard. He was secretly hoping that the paternal gene would kick in after viewing the ultrasound.

It worked in _Nine Months_ after all.

"So, are we checking for the sex today?" Kelly inquired, reaching for the little wand she'd rub over Robin's tummy.

"I still don't want to know but Patrick volunteered to decorate the nursery," Robin said with a wicked smile. "So he gets to find out."

"You're going to decorate the nursery?" Kelly repeated. She stared at him. "For real?"

"I'm perfectly capable of buying some furniture," he muttered.

"You're not just choosing furniture!" Robin protested. "It's a color scheme, a concept! This is the room that our child is going to be spending a lot of time in. It has to feel like home!"

He saw her lower lip tremble and wanted to throttle Kelly. "Of course. I'm going to stop at the bookstore and stock up on some design books. The room will be perfect, I promise."

Kelly clearly had her doubts but she tactfully kept them to herself. She switched the screen on. "Well, let's see if Baby Drake is willing to help Daddy out and give us a color to work with." She fiddled a bit and smiled. "Here we go." She turned the screen to face them. "Everything looks fabulous."

"Wow." Patrick blinked. He'd seen ultrasounds before, had watched them on television so he knew that he would be able to see the head and the limbs but maybe there was something to that daddy gene kicking in at the ultrasound. That was his kid on the screen, after all. Half him, half Robin. Pretty cool concept.

"Everything's normal?" Robin asked anxiously. "I haven't gained much weight."

"Sweetie, you're going to wake up one morning and wish you hadn't complained about not gaining the weight. You're going to have a basketball there." Kelly grinned. "But, everything is normal. Right size." She hit a few screens. "Baby Drake is also going to help Daddy with the color scheme but I'll save that for when you're changing." She patted Robin's hand. "You're going to get some energy back; you're into your second trimester. The nausea is going to fade a bit, but it might not go away."

After she'd sent Robin out of the room, Kelly held out the ultrasound photo to Patrick. "Congratulations, Daddy, you've got a very healthy daughter."

"Daughter." Patrick sat back down on the stool hard. "Christ. I don't know anything about daughters."

Kelly arched an eyebrow. "They're not that much different than sons."

"But they are," Patrick said. "There's going to be ballet lessons and lacy dresses and boys are going to want to touch her." He frowned. "I'm going to go to jail for beating up boys, aren't I?"

"It's a possibility." Kelly patted his shoulder. "Cheer up. You could get a tomboy that likes to play sports. You could even teach her to appreciate the finer art of race cars."

The idea started to appeal to him but then he remembered just how fast those cars could travel and no way in hell was his kid getting in a car like that!

"She can watch," Patrick said. "But that's it."

**3**

_Sweet April showers_

_Do spring May flowers._

Thomas Tusser

Patrick planted his hands on his hips and glared at the wallpaper in the second bedroom. He'd bought some books, watched a few television shows. How hard could it really be to strip the wallpaper?

Very difficult apparently as he was into hour three and had only managed half a wall. He still had six months to accomplish it but he was beginning to wish he hadn't volunteered to do this. With his luck, it would be all wrong and Robin wouldn't let their kid sleep in here a night before wanting to change it.

"Any fumes in there?" she called. "Or colors I shouldn't see?"

"Other than the crap green that was already here," he muttered. "Fumes are gone, I'm taking a break."

Robin entered and sat on the floor cross-legged, a notebook in front of her. "I have a few things we need to discuss."

"Wonderful," Patrick said, trying to sound sincere. "Where do we start?"

"First…" Robin glanced up. "Can you sit down, too? My head is going to ache if you keep this up."

Patrick folded his long legs into the same cross-legged style. "Okay, shoot."

"First," Robin repeated, "I wanted to tell you that I really do appreciate how supportive you've been, even when I've been a little…" she hesitated, "unstable."

"Nothing to it."

"You didn't exactly sign up for this and you're really going out of your way to be a good guy." She stopped. "I know we haven't really established this, but I thought we should put it into terms. I'm living here, we're sharing a bed, so you know, I guess we're back together."

"I had assumed that, yes."

"Good, good, that takes care of another item." She actually marked it off. "So even when I get really fat and unbearable, you won't leave me right?"

Patrick scrubbed a hand over his face. "That's a trick question right? If I say of course not, you're going to assume I think you're going to get fat and unbearable and sock me.. If I say yes, you're going to sock me. If I say nothing, you're going to sock me. So just go ahead and sock me."

She smiled faintly. "I'm sorry, I know I haven't been very easy to deal with. My emotions are all over the place and I'm sure if feels like everything I ask you is a declaration of war. I'm trying to work on that."

"Okay, with that in mind, then I can say that I love you," he said. "I don't love you because you're thin and let's face it, you've never been easy going. Most of our relationship has been somewhat prickly, so I don't really see that changing because your hormones get a bit whacky 

and you're not going to be fat, you're going to be pregnant. Also, I knocked you up so I can't complain much. You're going to give me a kid, right? So it's a win-win situation."

"Are you…looking forward to this baby a little more?" she asked softly. "I guess…I want to know if you want the baby."

"Kelly told me the sex of the baby," Patrick said, "and I have to say, it did change things a little. I was always going to step up and do the right because that's the way my mother raised me but I could kind of picture the baby now. And while the future scares the hell out of me, it's not because I'm going to have a kid, it's because of all the things in that world out there that the kid can get a hold of that's going to hurt them. That is a very scary world out there, Robin, with poisons and bad people and people who speed on residential streets. Can we just leave the kid in one of those playpen things until its eighteen?"

She laughed and leaned forward to kiss him. "That's very cute. No."


	2. Chapter 2

**MAY**

**1**

_The world's favorite season is the spring._

_All things seem possible in May_

Edwin Way Teale

"I need a favor."

Elizabeth blew the excess steam from her hot chocolate and sipped it gingerly. She grimaced. "Still too hot." She looked at Patrick. "What kind of favor? My shift starts in ten minutes."

"That's fine." Patrick dropped a stack of books on the table. "I'm back from break about then anyway. I need you to be my lookout. I can't leave these around the apartment because she'll see and if she does see them, she'll know the sex of the baby."

"Ah." Elizabeth moved to the doorway of the break room and kept a look out while peering at the books he was opening. "Wallpaper samples? So the rumor's true?"

"In an act of desperation, yes, I agreed to decorate the nursery." He thumbed through the pages. "I mentioned that I was getting paint samples and she was horrified. She wants wallpaper. I barely managed to strip the existing stuff without screwing it up but that's okay. That's why they have shows like Bob Vila right?"

"Of course," she said soberly. She glanced at the samples. "So a boy, huh?"

"Yep. Kelly told me it was a girl first but then the baby turned in another direction and she changed her mind." Patrick turned the page. "I'm a little relieved because, you know, boys are okay. I was one, so I think I'll be able to cope. Girls come with a whole set of issues I know nothing about."

"I want a little girl," Elizabeth said wistfully. "When Jake's a little older, I'm definitely going to convince Jason we should have another baby. But he's not ready to even set a date." She paused. "I should be grateful he didn't just call off the engagement."

"You should be mad he didn't set you free," Patrick grumbled. "Stop reminding me about your unfortunate taste and keep a watch. It's Wednesday."

"Yeah, so?"

"Robin has specific reactions on certain days when I do something that upsets or offends her," Patrick explained. "On Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays, she just cries. On Mondays and Tuesdays, she socks me. Saturdays are tricky. It might be either one."

"And Wednesdays?"

"She socks me and then she cries. It's my least favorite day so I try to keep my interaction with Robin limited to a smile and a nod. It's worked well so far." Patrick held up a sample. "I like this one."

"Racing cars," Elizabeth nodded. "Clearly the right choice."

2

_I thought that spring must last forevermore_

_For I was young and loved, and it was May. _

Vera Brittain

"We have to talk about names."

Patrick paused, wiping the sweat from his brow. It was his third attempt to get the wallpaper to stick to the wall. No matter how many times he painstakingly followed the directions in the book, it still bulged in spots. Maybe it was time for another book.

Robin's voice came to him from the other side of the door. He knew it was difficult for her not to at least peek inside but so far her willpower was holding up. "Names," he repeated.

"Yes, names. I made up a list of the ones I like but I thought I'd ask you first."

Patrick continued to press another sheet of the paper to the wall, smoothing it down. "Um. What do you like?"

"Well, I don't want anything that will get the kid laughed at but I want something strong. That would sound just as nice when they're five as when they're thirty. I was talking to Lulu the other day and I just thought—God what was Laura thinking? Lulu is cute for a little girl but ridiculous for a grown woman."

He'd never thought Lulu Spencer was much of a grown woman, but he wasn't about to expound on that. "Sounds about right. Wouldn't want a kid named Bambi. Doesn't sound right after a certain age."

"Bambi never sounds right," Robin said, exasperated. "So I also thought we should think of something that's nickname friendly. I hate that the only thing people can call me is Robbie. It's like, longer than my name."

"Ian calls me Pat sometimes," Patrick mused, pleased when the sheet of wallpaper appeared to stay nice and smooth. "But he only does it because he knows I hate it."

"Exactly. So I was also thinking about naming him for someone in my family. What about Noah for a boy?"

"No," Patrick said shortly. "What about Robert?"

"I'm already named for him, so I don't want to saddle a third generation with that." She pursed her lips. "But Anna for a girl is nice."

"I like Anna." Patrick started on another piece. Maybe he was finally making progress. "What about Malcolm?"

"Malcolm," Robin repeated. "It's a little out of fashion," she said slowly. "But it can be shortened to Mac or Mal which works out well. I like it."

"Good. Malcolm for a boy, Anna for a girl." It was the first time she'd easily accepted one of his suggestions and he was proud of himself. Maybe he was going to be okay at this after all.

The piece that he'd just finished started to peel off the wall.

Damn it.

3

_Queer things happen in the garden in May. _

_Little faces forgotten appear, and plants thought to be dead _

_suddenly wave a green hand to confound you. _

-W. E . Johns

"What do you mean you haven't told your mother?"

Patrick narrowed his eyes, watching Robin shove a whole cookie in her mouth at once. "Robin."

"It never came up." Except she tried to say it with a full mouth, so it sounded more _I nevaw ca u_.

"Robin." Patrick shoved himself up off the couch. "If your mother doesn't know, then I guess neither does your father."

Robin swallowed and chased it down with a swig of milk. "I suppose that's entirely possible."

"By entirely possible you mean that's exactly what's happening here," Patrick said flatly. "You didn't tell your parents."

"I couldn't!" Robin stood and planted her hands on her hips. "My mother is not ready to hear that she's going to be a grandmother and my father, oh my God, my _father_—"

"Is probably going to string me up by my thumbs," Patrick muttered. He went to the phone book and started to thumb through the pages. "If I can find a justice of the peace who'd be willing to marry us over the phone, I think I can probably save my life."

Robin frowned. "What was that?"

"Because your parents are in the elevator, on their way to this floor and if you're unmarried when Robert Scorpio walks through that door and sees…" he gestured towards her protruding belly, "…that and finds out you're not married? You'll never get the chance to be a widow because I'll already be dead."

"Now you're overreacting."

"That's rich coming from the woman who cried over a _Hell's Kitchen_ episode," Patrick grumbled.

"I didn't think Vanessa should go home!" Robin stomped her foot.

"Can we please focus?" Patrick demanded. "Look, can you just tell your dad we're married so he won't kill me?"

"He'll ask for proof."

"You're right." Patrick dropped the phone book. "I'm pretty good under pressure but I don't think I'd be able to create a marriage certificate in the next two minutes. Are you any good with Photoshop? We could stick a white dress on you in something."

"Patrick. You're babbling."

"Wait…I've got an idea that I just might be able to pull off." Patrick crossed to the coat closet and dug around the top shelf. "You go lock the door so we can stall them."

"I am not going to lock the door. Besides, my parents can pick a lock." She watched him pull down the locked gray metal box and then root around in the desk for his keys. "What are you doing?"

"Just wait a second. How much longer do we have?" he asked, inserting the key in the lock. He threw the box open.

"Probably a minute," Robin replied.

"Should be enough." He withdrew a velvet box. "I was saving this for later this month, for our two year anniversary, but an emergency is an emergency."

"We have an anniversary?" Robin said. "How can we possibly pick a date to celebrate? We broke up like eight times."

"We took time off, we did not break up," Patrick muttered.

"I think you sleeping with someone else constitutes an actual breakup," Robin pointed out.

"Again, the focusing could use some work." He took her hand, flipped open the box and showed her a diamond solitaire ring. "Marry me."

"I feel like I've missed a step," Robin said. "Shouldn't you be down on one knee?"

"Hey, you're the one that didn't tell your parents about the baby," Patrick pointed out. "If you wanted a real romantic proposal, maybe something better than a five minute warning would have been nice."

"If you'd actually had a romantic proposal, I probably would have thought it was a sick joke," Robin said, tapping her chin. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you're glaring at me at a moment like this."

"We're down to like thirty seconds here." Patrick plucked the ring from the box. "Are you going to marry me or not?"

"I can't wait to tell our kid about this moment one day," Robin sighed with a fake dreamy smile. "Your father was glaring at me and demanding an answer with Grandma and Grandpop on our front step."

"We'll lie to the kid, parents do it all the time." Patrick narrowed his eyes. "Don't make me tackle you and shove this on your finger."

She pursed her lips and took the ring from him, studying it. "How long have you had this?" she asked curiously.

"About ten years," Patrick answered. At her questioning look, he exhaled slowly. "It was my mother's. She left it to me in her will."

"Oh." Robin bit her lip. "But you kept it here in the apartment. Instead of the deposit box where you keep all your documents and that cute coin collection—"

"I think I heard the elevator ding. Can't you just say yes?" Patrick asked.

"I think I'll give you an answer when you tell me why you want to marry me," Robin said, arching an eyebrow. "And to save to your own hide is not a good enough reason."

"I told you," he said, exasperated. "I was saving it for next week. I got it out of the bank a few days ago so I could have it cleaned and polished. And I'm asking you because I love you." There was a knock at the door. "And if you even love me a little, you'll say yes before your dad walks in here."

Robin slid the ring on her finger and leaned up on the tips of her toes. "Yes," she whispered against his lips. "But only because you asked so sweetly."


End file.
